you know. Now, good-night," he finished, stepping out upon the veranda. "You send for me if there's anything I can do."
"Do?" Adams echoed. "There ain't anything anybody can do!" And then, as his old friend went down the path to the sidewalk, he called after him, "You tell him I'll pay him every last cent! Every last, dang, dirty penny!"
He slammed the door and went rapidly up the stairs, talking loudly to himself. "Every dang, last, dirty penny! Thinks everybody in this family wants to steal from him, does he? Thinks we're all yellow, does he? I'll show him!" And he came into his own room vociferating, "Every last, dang, dirty penny!"
Mrs. Adams had collapsed, and Alice had put her upon his bed, where she lay tossing convulsively and sobbing, "Oh, poor Walter!" over and over, but after a time she varied the sorry tune. "Oh, poor Alice!" she moaned, clinging to her daughter's hand. "Oh, poor, poor Alice—to have this come on the night of your dinner—just when everything seemed to be going so well—at last—oh, poor, poor, poor———"
"Hush!" Alice said, sharply. "Don't say 'poor Alice!' I'm all right."
